


Huey Duck's Non-Comprehensive, Ever Growing List of Reasons Why Being a Triplet is Awesome

by Nebulous_Bounds_of_Bad_Taste



Series: Huey Duck's Non-Comprehensive, Ever Growing List of Lists [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Ducktales Secret Santa 2018, F/M, Fluff, Huey Likes Lists, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Sibling Love, a rant about standardized testing, everyone run from the duke, good dad donald, triplet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulous_Bounds_of_Bad_Taste/pseuds/Nebulous_Bounds_of_Bad_Taste
Summary: Huey Duck loves two things: lists, and being a triplet. So of course he has a list about being a triplet.Secret Santa gift for heythatsdeep on tumblr, who requested Huey and fluff!





	Huey Duck's Non-Comprehensive, Ever Growing List of Reasons Why Being a Triplet is Awesome

**Author's Note:**

> This got really out of hand really quick.... I did not intend for this to get so long. Oh well, Happy Holidays, everyone!

  1. _Automatic tie breaker._



“Indiana Jones!”

“Braveheart!”

Ah, Movie Night. The ultimate way channel sibling tension. So it wasn’t much of a surprise that more often than not, it came down to Huey and Dewey giving their hot takes, with Louie not caring. This time was no different.

“Indiana Jones is the adventure of a lifetime!” Dewey declared.

“We live Indiana Jones,” Louie said, paying more attention to his phone than his brothers’ argument.

“Braveheart will be a chance to connect with our Scottish heritage!” Huey said.

“Isn’t that on Uncle Donald’s ‘Not Even When You’re Forty’ list?” Louie asked.

“It’s Uncle Donald,” Huey pshawed. “How bad could it be?”

“Last time you said that, we watched “Alien” and you slept in my bunk for two weeks,” Dewey said, dryly.

Huey rolled his eyes. “Just pick one, Louie!”

“Once again, Louie is the tie-breaker,” Louie said, thoughtfully, putting down his phone. He leveled his brothers with a serpent-like smile. “What’s it worth to you?”

They didn’t end up watching a movie that night. Instead, they chased Louie around the mansion.

  1. _Dressing alike._



“I apologize for calling you in, Mr. Duck,” said Principal Partridge. “But they’re being completely uncooperative. They say they won’t tell us who they are, we have to figure it out.”

The triplets stayed quiet. Any other time, dressing in matching yellow sweaters and caps would have been a fun prank. Not today. This was a _protest_.

“They’ve been impossible all year,” their teacher, Miss Magpie, said, peering down at them through the glasses perched on the tip of her beak. “I swear they’ve been deliberately mixing me up.”

“No we haven’t,” they said in perfect unison.

Uncle Donald sighed.

“Huey, Dewey, Louie?” he asked, looking at each of them when he said their name. “What is this about?”

It was like a dam broke.

“She’s been getting us mixed up all year!” Louie exclaimed.

Huey nodded. “And when we try to correct her, she tells us we’re being rude and threatens to keep us in at recess.”

“We’re not the same person!” Dewey said, indignantly.

Miss Magpie rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“You’re identical triplets,” she said in that way that adults talk to children when they want to ignore the fact that they’re people. “You’ll have to show me some leniency.”

“Every other teacher we’ve had has gotten it in like three weeks,” Dewey snapped.

Huey nodded. “One week to learn everyone’s names, another to figure out who’s who, and another to figure out the identical triplets,” he said, a matter-of-factly. “It’s a pretty consistent pattern. Some teachers even do it in _two_ weeks.”

“We’re color-coded for crying out loud,” Louie grumbled, sitting back with his arms crossed.

Uncle Donald looked at them with that familiar Dad Look. The one where he was measuring their sincerity.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, sadly.

“Just because _you_ listen doesn’t mean _they_ will,” Huey replied.

Uncle Donald immediately turned on Miss Magpie.

“Huey likes reading, has a big vocabulary, and asks a lot of questions,” he said, glaring at her in a way only Uncle Donald could. “Dewey is energetic and loves doing things with his hands. Louie is laid back and is good at math.” He crossed his arms. “And those are just the basics for keeping them straight. I can give you lists of ways to who’s who, from their speech patterns to their postures, which you could easily figure out if you actually paid any attention to your students.”

Miss Magpie, clearly not used to being reprimanded by anyone, let alone a parent, only stared.

Principal Partridge began, “Mr. Duck,” but Uncle Donald held up a hand to stop him.

“Pete, I know my boys get into their fair share of trouble,” Uncle Donald said, far more kindly than he did to Miss Magpie. “But they’re eight. Their identities were being threatened, and they were being ignored. They were trying to get someone to listen.”

Principal Partridge didn’t really have an answer for that. He rarely did when he spoke to Uncle Donald.

Uncle Donald took them home after that, and they had a good long talk about _telling_ him when something was bothering them, so they didn’t feel like they had to use a Louie Plan to solve the problem.

For fear of their Uncle Donald, Principal Partridge didn’t punish them, and Miss Magpie was reprimanded into putting effort into getting their names right.

It only took her a week. Go figure.

  1. _Someone to help you break the rules..._



“I hate this,” Huey said, staring down at the reading question. “These are dumber than last year’s!”

It was standardized test time, and their teacher had sent them home with test prep as homework. As if they hadn’t already spent the entire year prepping. The boys all sat on the floor of their room in the houseboat, working on it in their own ways. Huey was blazing through it, furious all the way, but couldn’t help but notice Dewey was still on the first page.

“How are you done already?” Dewey asked Louie, irately. Huey turned to Louie, who was playing on his phone next to a seemingly finished homework packet. How _was_ he done?

“I just answer each question with ‘Who’s to say?’”

“These tests don’t even _prove_ anything!” Huey cried, hurling his “homework” across their bedroom. “They just prove you’re good at tests!”

“ _You’re_ good at tests,” Dewey said quietly. “You’re... smart and stuff.”

Looking at his brother’s downtrodden expression and thinking about how beaten down Dewey was from last year’s test, something in Huey snapped.

“I’m not gonna do it,” he declared.

“You’re not gonna what?” Louie asked, absently. Huey swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I’m gonna opt out.”

Dewey and Louie’s heads snapped in his direction so quickly Huey was afraid they’d get whiplash.

Huey felt himself start to shake. This was ridiculous. It was just a stupid test. Why did he feel so strongly about it? Wouldn’t his teacher get mad at him? But kids had opted out before. No one could _make_ him take it, could they? Right? Water rising, _water rising_!

He felt a hand on each of his shoulders, and his world came back into focus.

Dewey and Louie were standing in front of him with their game faces on.

“We’re in,” they said.

  1. _... and then pull you back when it gets out of hand._



“What's happening?” Louie asked, eyes wide.

“REVOLUTION!” Huey shouted, waving his red jacket like a flag. He was met with resounding cheers that filled the entire gym. With the help of his brothers, their entire grade had agreed to opt out of the test and sit the time out in the gym. He wasn’t sure where all the teachers had gone, but the thrill of revolution prevented Huey from caring at all.

Meanwhile, his brothers bickered.

“I was in the bathroom for five minutes!” Louie said. “What _happened_?!”

“Well, Huey started freaking out again, so I showed him my motivation playlist,” Dewey explained, sheepishly.

“That’s full of Broadway musicals! What were you thinking?!”

“He needed inspiration!”

“Do you _remember_ what happened when you showed him ‘Newsies’?!”

“There were hats! He likes hats, I thought he’d like the hats!”

As if on cue, the choir kids started singing “Do You Hear the People Sing?”. Impressively well for a bunch of nine-year-olds.

“You played him ‘ _Les Mis’_ ?!” Louie shouted. “Don’t you _hate_ what’s-his-name?!”

“On principal! Andrew Lloyd Webbfeet may be an overrated quack, but he is an overrated quack who knows how to write a rousing anthem!”

Around them, kids started grabbing chairs from the suddenly unlocked storage closets, and piling them up in front of the doors. Dewey and Louie looked at each other, and then ran for Huey.

“Huey! Huey no, we are _not_ building a barricade! _HUEY_!”

  1. _You always have someone to fight for._



“Let me go, Dewey!” he said, struggling against his brother’s tight grip around his waist. Dewey said nothing, only grunting as he dragged Huey away from the conflict, leaving Louie to... whatever Louie was doing.

If it were anyone else holding on to him, Huey would have been able to break free. Uncle Donald was too concerned with not hurting him to really effectively keep his grip, and Louie didn’t want to _get_ hurt, so when Huey blew his top, it was Dewey who could grab him and keep his hold.

Which was really annoying when Huey wanted to _break Colten Rattigan’s face_.

With a feral snarl, Huey again tried to force his way out of Dewey’s arms, but Dewey was not only experienced in holding Huey back, he was also _way_ stronger than he looked.

“LET ME GO!”

“Not until you- QUIT IT! Not until you calm down!”

But Huey didn’t _want_ to calm down. Huey might not have seemed like it, but he had the Duck Family Temper, and the best way to set it off was to hurt his brothers. So when Colten looked at Dewey and said; “I don’t remember your name because no one cares enough,” Huey lunged.

“Huey, I don’t care!” Dewey said. Huey scoffed, and continued to struggle. Dewey was tough in a lot of ways, but he had some _major_ identity issues. “Okay, maybe a little! Or a lot, but he’s like four times your size! It’s not worth it!”

Huey stopped struggling, still keeping his limbs taut, and looked at Dewey the best he could.

“ _You’re_ worth it.”

Dewey huffed, but grinned. However, when he opened his mouth to retort, a small cry caught their attention.

Their heads whipped back to where Colten was standing... and saw Louie on the ground in front of him holding his eye.

Huey and Dewey made eye contact one more time, and then they _both_ tackled Colten.

  1. _... and someone to fight for_ you _._



Huey slapped another bandage on Dewey’s arm.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Huey said, applying antiseptic to the next scrape. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“You’ve done way worse for me,” Dewey replied. He may have huffed at Huey’s fussing, but he didn’t put any effort into actually resisting. “Swann wanted a fight, so I gave him one.”

Huey growled under his breath, but gave up trying to reason with Dewey. He turned to Louie, who was, as usual, looking at his phone.

“Well, _you_ didn’t need to make him _cry_!”

Louie shrugged. “He wanted to make _you_ cry.”

“I have fists, Louie has words,” Dewey said sagely. “A perfect combination.”

“You two are impossible,” Huey grumbled.

“You love us,” Louie said.

Huey rolled his eyes, but didn’t dispute him.

Louie was right, after all.

  1. _And someone to fight_ with _._



Huey would never understand how Uncle Donald always managed to jump into the mess of tiny fists and feet and come out with all three of them subdued and without a scratch on him. But he did, in a way that no other adult would _ever_ be able to. Heck, last time Uncle Scrooge tried, he lost his cane.

So sure enough, Huey found himself gently grabbed and tossed from a scuffle with his brothers (oh come on, he totally had Dewey pinned for once!), somehow managing to land safely on a pillow. He looked around, and saw his brothers in similar positions, looking just as confused as he was.

“Alright, boys,” Uncle Donald quacked, arms crossed. “How did it start?”

Huey opened his mouth to explain, but stopped. His mind came up blank. Huh.... why _did_ they start fighting? He looked at Louie, who simply shrugged.

“I dunno,” Dewey said, cheerfully. “After five minutes it’s just fun.”

  1. _You have two people who know you 100%._



Huey stared at his Junior Woodchuck Guide, perplexed. It felt... sturdier than it had yesterday. In fact, now that he thought about it, the cover was about to come off. But now? Good as new.

“What...?” Huey started.

“You've been freaking out over the Senior JW ceremony,” Dewey said, peering over his comic book from the bean bag chair.

“We knew you'd freak out _more_ if the cover came off your guide,” said Louie, so far in that same very much _not_ built for two bean bag chair he was almost one with it.

Huey smelled the binding. Oh my gosh...

“You... you used...”

“Rosa's Famous Book Glue,” Dewey and Louie said in unison.

“You'd kill us if we used anything else,” Louie said.

Huey blinked back tears, tackling them both in a hug.

“Ack! Oh come on, Huey, gross!”

“Told you there'd be hugging.”

  1. _Even if it can get a little annoying._



“Is there a particular reason we're spying on Daisy and Uncle Donald?” Webby asked.

Huey ignored her in favor of peering through his binoculars. She was up to something... He was _sure_ of it.

“Huey's freaking out,” Dewey said. Huey scoffed, indignantly.

“I am not freaking out!” he protested. “We don’t know her! She could be secretly working for Glomgold, or some enemy we haven’t met yet!”

“He knew her in high school,” Webby said, confused.

“People change!”

“Don't worry about him, Webs,” Louie said, casually. “Uncle Donald hasn't dated since we came along, so Huey doesn't have a list for it.”

“We'll be here when you come around, Hubert,” said Dewey.

“And,” Louie continued. “We'll be here when you decide to tell us the _real_ reason it bothers you.”

Louie's stare was penetrating. It was that stare that said; “I know you. I see into your very soul, and I can’t guarantee I will use this power for good”.

“Ooooooh, he pulled out the All-Knowing Stare of Imminent Destruction! Do me, do me!”

“Shut up, Dewey.”

  1. _You cover for each other._



“Huey, lad, have y’seen Louie?”

Huey looked up from sewing his Ballroom Dancing badge onto his sash to see Uncle Scrooge in his doorway. He had an aura about him that Huey could only describe as Scottish Rage.

Huey shook his head. “Nope, I’ve been in here since I got home from Junior Woodchucks. Why?”

Uncle Scrooge squinted at him suspiciously, said, “Just keep your eye out, lad,” and continued down the hall.

Huey counted to ten, before looking up towards Dewey’s bunk.

“Coast is clear.”

Louie’s head appeared from behind a wall of pillows. Dewey’s bunk was always the best place to hide. It was just high enough to be out of the way, and no one ever questioned why it was messy.

“Thanks for the cover, Huey,” Louie said, gratefully, climbing down the ladder. “I owe you one.”

“What did you even do?” Huey asked.

“Might have asked a few people at that gala about tax fraud,” Louie replied. He kicked the vent cover open and crawled in. “He’ll be over it in a couple days.”

Huey rolled his eyes and went back to his sewing.

  1. _And sell each other out._



“Huey! You gotta hide me!” Dewey cried, sliding into their bedroom looking... suspiciously singed.

Huey, sitting in a bean bag chair, put down his copy of “Cryptids for Skeptics: A Guide For All Who Fear the Unknown”, and sighed.

“Who’s after you?” he asked, calmly. “Beakley, Scrooge, or -”

An enraged screaming quack answered _that_ question.

“Ah,” Huey said.

Forgoing all dignity in the face of his uncle’s wrath, Dewey dove to the foot of the bean bag chair, kneeling at Huey’s feet.

“Dear Hubert,” he said, pitifully. “Dearest older brother -”

“You only concede that I’m older when you want something,” Huey said, dryly.

“DEWFORD DEUTERONOMY DUCK!” came Uncle Donald’s furious quack.

“Wow, full name,” Huey said, a little impressed. “What did you even _do_?”

“No time! Cover for me! Please!” Dewey begged.

Huey studied him for a moment, considering. On the one hand, the pitiful face was making him feel a little bad. On the other hand...

“Three words, Dewford,” Huey said, smiling. “Three. Man. Cookout.”

Dewey’s face went from pitiful to horrified.

“No...” he whispered.

“HE’S IN HERE, UNCLE DONALD!”

“You _traitor_!” Dewey cried, scrambling to his feet. Huey shrugged, and picked up his book.

“Hey, I gave you a running start.” He peered over his book at his brother. “Maybe try the window?”

Unsurprisingly, seeing as it was Dewey, he did.

  1. _And when you’re in trouble, you always have a scapegoat._



About an hour after getting home from seeing Cousin Fethry, they heard Louie scream;

“Are you _serious_ ?! I wasn’t even _there_!”

Huey and Dewey made themselves scarce for the rest of the afternoon. Not that it saved them. Louie Duck has always had a _very_ long memory.

  1. _Triplet Halloween costumes = way more candy._



“I hate this,” Dewey said, wrestling with the giant feather in his hat. Did he realize it was on backwards...? “This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid!” Huey declared. He grabbed Dewey’s hat and turned it around. “We’re the Three Musketeers! Daring adventurers employed by the French monarchy!”

“Why do we always have to match?!” Dewey whined. “We match every year!”

“Because we’re paying for Huey’s candy problem with our dignity,” Louie said, dryly. “We match, we get more candy.”

“Exactly!” Huey said, probably more deranged than he intended. Candy... did things to him. Candy candy _candy candy candy_!!! “And you two better act as cute as possible!”

Dewey stared at Huey for a moment, then looked at Louie.

“We sure we _want_ more candy?”

  1. _No matter how mad you get, you know you’re always going to be okay._



Huey wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so angry. He’d been fine after the demon dog attack, fine during the car ride back to their hotel near Dismal Downs. Dewey was sorry. He apologized, he _meant_ it, and that was that. But once they were in their room, Dewey started laying out everything he and Webby had found out. The longer he spoke, the angrier Huey got.

“So you’re saying you found a section of Uncle Scrooge’s library completely dedicated to Mom?!”

“Yes,” Dewey said, sitting on one of the hotel beds, looking down at the carpet. Louie sat curled up in a chair in the corner, completely silent, cell phone in his pocket. When Louie got quiet, things were _definitely_ bad.

Huey’s fists were clenched and shaking. He was _so close_ to losing his temper. “And then crashed the Sunchaser and met a goddess who knew Mom and got a gift from her?!”

“Yes,” Dewey said, even quieter this time. “I should have told you. I was _going_ to tell you. I’m sorry, I just...”

“Just what?” Louie asked. He didn’t look at either of them.

“I was going to tell you. And then... the note.” Dewey swallowed. “I was scared. I thought... I fought Webby so we wouldn’t have to go into the garden. Because... I didn’t want to know. If Mom was...” He took a breath and wiped his eyes. “She stole something from uncle Scrooge. I was scared she was a bad person. And if she was... I didn’t want you guys to know.”

Huey was conflicted. He was definitely still angry. But at the same time, looking at Dewey holding back tears, brotherly instincts were going haywire. On the one hand, Dewey deserved it. On the other hand, Huey _hated_ seeing him cry.

Louie, meanwhile, got up out of his chair and pointedly sat next to Dewey on the bed, leaning his head on Dewey’s shoulder. Dewey leaned into him.

“Still mad at you,” Louie said.

“I know,” Dewey replied.

With that, Huey’s brotherly instincts won out. He was angry, he was hurt, but Dewey was hurting, too. Huey finally walked over and sat down on the other side of Dewey, putting his arm around him.

“What Louie said,” Huey said, gently. Dewey nodded, but still offered him a watery smile.

They were gonna be okay.

  1. _You can say “When I was your age” and then talk about what you did forty-eight minutes ago._



“For the love of- I WAS THERE, DEWEY!”

Dewey patted Louie on the shoulder. “So young. So very, very young.”

Louie looked like he was about to pop. “IT WASN’T EVEN AN HOUR!”

Huey patted them both on the head.

“Well,” he said. “When I was _your_ age, Dewey-”

Dewey immediately turned on him.

“You beat me by three seconds! _Three_!”

“- I was listening to you yell at me about me beating you by three seconds.”

  1. _You have someone to take care of._



Huey didn’t know what time it was. It was late, he knew. The only light in the living room came from the glow of the TV playing season two of _Darkwing Duck_. They’d finished season one about two hours ago, and decided to just keep going. At this point, Huey couldn’t feel his face.

He looked to his right, and noticed his brothers were both fast asleep. Louie was upside down, snoring like a buzzsaw. Dewey was sitting up, head leaning to the right. Neither of those positions looked particularly comfortable. Huey yawned, and got up from the couch.

He went to Louie first. He slept like a rock, so he wouldn’t have to worry about waking him up. He shoved Louie’s legs so he was lying on his side instead of upside down. Huey grabbed a pillow off the floor (one from their room that they’d brought down for the marathon), and put it under his head. Louie never stopped snoring.

Dewey would be harder. Dewey was a much lighter sleeper than Louie. He crawled over to Dewey, and gently nudged him to the right until Dewey, never opening his eyes, laid down on his own. Huey then grabbed another pillow and put it under Dewey’s head.

Huey then grabbed some blankets that had been scattered about the room earlier that day, put them over his brothers, and turned off the TV.

  1. _And someone to take care of you._



Huey’s world went dark as a black pillowcase engulfed his head and he was dragged down the hall.

He wasn’t scared. He knew what this was. It happened at least once every six months.

“Let me go, I have to finish!” he protested halfheartedly.

“Huey, you haven’t slept in three days,” Louie said. “You know the drill.”

“You can work on whatever badge this is after you sleep,” Dewey said.

Huey felt himself be tossed into their bedroom, and the pillowcase was removed from his head. He blinked. Had he not resisted? He thought he’d been resisting... or had he... Wait, three days?!

“Can you climb the ladder?” Louie asked.

Huey stared at it, and then very slowly started climbing the ladder to his bunk. He must have blacked out, because the next thing he knew, he was on Louie’s bunk.

“Yeah no you’re not climbing anything,” Dewey said.

“You’re staying there until you wake up,” Louie said sternly. “No alarms.”

He didn’t really need to say anything. Huey was already conked out.

  1. _Even when you don’t want them to._



Huey struggled against Dewey’s grip. He needs to break free. He needed to get to the bag. Louie had the bag. _Louie had the bag_.

“Let me go, Dewey!” he growled. He struggled, every part of his body vibrating and fighting to break free. But Dewey’s grip held. He’d had a lot of practice.

“No way, Hube- Ow!” Dewey exclaimed, as one of Huey’s flailing limbs hit him in the face. “You’ve had enough!”

“I told you we shouldn’t have let Uncle Donald hide the bag,” Louie said, peering into the bag (really, a pillowcase). “He ate half the candy already!”

“So hide it- OW! Huey, quit it - hide it already!”

Louie shook his head. “Not until he crashes.”

“You want me to keep hold of him until he- WOULD YOU STOP THAT!”

The candy. The beautiful, sugary candy. Sweet milk chocolate. Sour Patch Ducklings. Candy corn. He needs it. He needs the sugary sweetness, needs to feel the sugar hit his system with a burst of chaotic energy. He needed it he needed it hE NEEDED IT-

“NnnnnnnYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE ME THE SUGAAAAAAR!”

“Yeesh, he sounds like Uncle Donald when he does this.”

  1. Especially _when you don’t want them to._



He woke up with a gasp, sitting straight up in his bunk.

He didn’t remember the dream. It was all over the place. A rocket. Louie trapped in the tomb. Dewey on the wing of the Sunchaser. He remembers pieces, but not what strung it all together. His pounding heart and damp cheeks told him he didn’t _want_ to remember.

Below him, Dewey stirred.

“Mmrp... Huey...?”

Huey didn’t say anything, hoping Dewey will roll over and go back to sleep. He didn’t want to bother Dewey with this. It was just a stupid nightmare. Besides, _he_ was the older brother. _He_ was the one who did the nurturing. _He_ was supposed to be the strong one. He could handle this on his own.

“Huey?” Dewey said, more awake this time. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Huey said. He was met with silence.

For a moment, Huey thought Dewey had gone back to sleep. But the silence was broken by the soft _whump_ of a pillow hitting a body.

“Louie,” Dewey whispered.

“Ngaaaaaaah, it’s Saturday, Uncle Donald....” Louie said, voice muffled by his pillow.

Another, more solid, _whump_.

“ _Louie_!”

“Whaaaaaat....”

“Huey had a nightmare.”

The next thing Huey knew, two pillows and two blankets landed on his bunk with a thud. Huey said nothing.

Dewey and Louie climbed up the ladder, Dewey getting there first, and Louie following and very groggily crawling over both of them. Huey still said nothing.

It wasn’t until he was squished between his brothers, Louie snoring into his shoulder and Dewey lying facing the ladder as if to protect them both from whatever might climb up, that Huey managed to speak up.

“You guys don’t have to -”

“Huey,” Dewey mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

So he did. And within moments, he fell asleep.

  1. _You were born with your two best friends in the world._



Huey wasn’t great at making friends. The kids at school either made fun of him or avoided him, and his fellow Junior Woodchucks may not have excluded him, but they didn’t exactly go out of their way to make friends. He was a little too intense, a little too passionate, anxious, well-spoken, smart, a little too _much_.

It bothered him a little, but not nearly as much as it could have. Because even though he didn’t have a lot of friends, he’d watched enough TV, read enough books, seen enough movies, to get the gist of what a best friend was supposed to be.

Someone who stands up for you when no one else will. Someone who knows you so well, they know when you were lying about being okay. Who knows how to make you laugh when you most need it. Who gets into trouble and out of trouble right along with you. Who knows exactly how to annoy you, but knows when not to do it. Someone you can sit in the same room with, doing completely different things, and still enjoy every minute of it. Given that criteria, it was only logical to conclude that he didn’t have a best friend.

He had two.

_Epilogue_

Huey watched as Webby took in her Christmas present.

At first glance, it didn’t look like much. Just some laminated paper with a simple, but pretty, pink border. But Webby stared at it like it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.

“ _Huey Duck’s Non-Comprehensive, Ever Growing List of Reasons Why Having a Sister is Awesome_ ,” she read, voice thick from emotion. She tore her eyes from the paper, and gazed at Huey. “I get my own list?”

“Get ready for updates, Webs,” Dewey called from across the room.

“Amended versions come out at least once a year,” Louie replied.

Huey was nonplussed. He knew full well both his brothers kept every version.

“Merry Christmas, Webby,” he said, warmly.

Webby sniffled, and then tackled him in a hug.

  1. _Free hugs._



“Webby! Webby, you’re choking me!”

“Deal with it!”

  1. _Even if they’re a little too tight, sometimes._



**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this was so much fun I might end up making this a series. Yay sibling fluff!
> 
> Honestly keeping it fluffy was a challenge for me because normally I am The Queen of Angst, but I do love me some sibling fluff. I grew up with five siblings, so I have experience.


End file.
